fic: quick drabble repost
A set of two untitled drabbles that I wrote for a challenge over at qaf_land.
Untitled Drabble Set
Brian/Justin, post-513 (could work earlier), of art and life and things
prompts: waves & glasses
1/2
Some days, Justin is all about the flow.
He will feel a mood, a certain energy, pound through him and spur him on. He will be focused, oblivious to most everything else, like he is part of something big and potent and no pull of a string will be wrong. He will feel mighty and humble in equal measure and like his hands are extensions of his mind. Acrylics will be layered and mesh perfectly on top of grainy white, the colors will swirl and clash like ocean water against cliffs.
He will feel like a sincere artist those days.
2/2
Some days, nothing will come.
Justin will feel uninspired and like everything is an effort. He will feel stuttered and out of tune, disconnected from creativity. Not a layer will work like he wants it to, no stroke of the brush will give the right texture and some sweeps will jar against the undercoat like nails on splintered glass. His frustration and inability will spin and echo and his knuckles will be taut without anything to show.
At some point, Brian will have had enough and set out to distract him.
Justin will let Brian be the artist those days.
Untitled Drabble Set
Brian/Justin, post-513 (could work earlier), of art and life and things
prompts: waves & glasses
1/2
Some days, Justin is all about the flow.
He will feel a mood, a certain energy, pound through him and spur him on. He will be focused, oblivious to most everything else, like he is part of something big and potent and no pull of a string will be wrong. He will feel mighty and humble in equal measure and like his hands are extensions of his mind. Acrylics will be layered and mesh perfectly on top of grainy white, the colors will swirl and clash like ocean water against cliffs.
He will feel like a sincere artist those days.
2/2
Some days, nothing will come.
Justin will feel uninspired and like everything is an effort. He will feel stuttered and out of tune, disconnected from creativity. Not a layer will work like he wants it to, no stroke of the brush will give the right texture and some sweeps will jar against the undercoat like nails on splintered glass. His frustration and inability will spin and echo and his knuckles will be taut without anything to show.
At some point, Brian will have had enough and set out to distract him.
Justin will let Brian be the artist those days.